


There's An Empty Place in My Heart

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Tragedy, Assassination, Assassins & Hitmen, Canon Divergence - The Reichenbach Fall, Confusion, Deductions, Don't listen to Basshunter's "Now You're Gone" while reading this, Emotional Constipation, Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall, Grief/Mourning, Gun Violence, Holmes Brothers, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Just dont, Lack of Communication, Multi, Murder, Mycroft is very alone, Sad Ending, Selfishness, Short One Shot, Suicide Notes, loss of friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-11
Updated: 2015-03-11
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:35:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Without my army, it could break apart. It won't heal, it never fades away; I go crazy, now you're gone.<em></em></em>
</p><p>The Reichenbach Fall goes far differently than it was supposed to, and yet somehow Moriarty still gets what he wants. Who's left to deduce the rest? A lone Holmes, but it isn't Sherlock.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's An Empty Place in My Heart

It was too much for him. When he’d stepped up to the edge of St. Bart’s, Sherlock had realized that: it was _immeasurable_. He ran the definition of the word through his head many times: adj. – too large or too much to be measured. He could feel it ballooning inside of him, causing his throat to cave in on itself and his hands to quiver unstoppably.

He had stood there with the tips of his shoes hanging over the edge, the wind flapping his coat, causing him to sway dangerously. There was no way he could wriggle his way out of this without consequences. He understood now why Mycroft kept himself distant from everyone, lest he become a danger to them. If a sniper were trained on his brother as well as his three friends, would his decision be different? Sherlock wondered.

Letting his eyes fall closed, he stepped off. He landed after a fall of twelve inches and turned, walking over Moriarty’s body toward the stairs that led off the roof. He couldn’t hear the following gunshots, but he deduced when they must have gone off.

Mycroft would later tell him that his deduction was accurate and Sherlock wouldn’t care. He sensed Mycroft’s uncertainty at his lack of emotion and raised his eyebrows, prompting his elder brother to ask.

Mycroft drew in a silent, fearful breath. By all accounts, Sherlock had been the first in the street when John Watson fell. He’d knelt next to him and pulled him into a hug, cradling him until the ambulance arrived too late.

Sherlock had moved to the Scotland Yard offices next, muting all the shouting police officers as Mycroft had taught him to do. He had brushed past the chaos into Greg Lestrade’s office, lifting and replacing the DI’s blood-streaked hand from where it had slipped from his still chest.

Mycroft himself had been there at Baker Street when Sherlock had arrived, going through the meticulous process of cleaning Mrs. Hudson’s body, wiping away the blood until she looked almost normal. Mycroft had wondered if that was Sherlock’s gift to her, tidying her up as she had always done for him.

Sherlock still had his eyebrows raised at him, Mycroft realized, giving in to the prompt and asking, “Why does it seem that you feel nothing? They were your closest friends.”

“Deduce it,” Sherlock replied infuriatingly as he got up to leave. It was the last Mycroft ever saw of him. He would later find a note tucked into the crooked doorknocker of 221B and would read it through blurring eyes, unable to escape his emotion.

_Dear Brother,_

_You weren’t able to figure it out, were you? Moron. I felt nothing because I knew I would join them anyway. I didn’t want them to live in a world without me, so why should I suffer a world without them? And I apologize. It was immeasurable._

_SH_

That last part…Mycroft would never know if Sherlock meant his grief or his selfishness.


End file.
